


On beam ends

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [17]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Implied Relationships, Innuendo, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celegorm gets coached on his technique.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On beam ends

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. Oh man, I wrote this ages ago and posted it on Tumblr and TOTALLY forgot to cross-post it. Probably because it's nonsense.  
> 1\. Takes place...oh, it could be any time. Some summer.

“No. Stop.” 

“What now?” 

“You’re going – damnit, Tyelko, you’re going way too fast.” 

“This is just how I do it!” 

“No. Your strokes are way too fast and too shallow – c’mon, this is basic stuff.  _Deeper_.” 

“I’ve always done it this way, I’m telling you – ” 

“Yeah, well  _I’m_  telling you this isn’t working for me!” 

“ _Fine_.”

“Your grip’s off too. Spread your hands further apart on the shaft.” 

“What are you, my batting coach?” 

“It’s going to help you plant your stroke with more control.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

There was a pause and then an exasperated sigh. 

“Slower and stronger. That’s what I asked you to do.  _Did I stutter_ , Fëanorion?” 

Celegorm turned around, thoroughly fed up.

“You are the bossiest, hardest to please – ” 

“Oh, you are not going to finish that sentence if you want to keep all your bits, boy.” 

“Threats now? That’s good. That’s encouraging.” 

“I’m just trying to keep us alive out here.” 

There was a long, grumpy silence, as little waves lapped against the beam of the canoe.

“See if I ever let you in the stern again,” grumbled Celegorm, facing front again and taking up his paddle. 

“I’m the only one of us capable of steering, you incompetent,” said Aredhel, ruddering them expertly around a snag. “You should have called out about that, by the way.” 

“Why? You saw it.”

“It’s your job, you assface. You’re in the bow, so you scout.”

Celegorm made a face and flourished his paddle. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” 

“That’s all you are, in the bow. An eye out for hazards, and brute strength.  _But only if you slow your fucking strokes down_  – ” 

“That’s it.” Celegorm half turned in his seat and sent his paddle skimming across the surface of the lake, sending a gout of water over Aredhel, who shrieked and ducked. 

“You son of a bitch, I will END YOU.” She retaliated, sending a wave of water over him that had him sputtering and shaking his head like a wet dog. 

“ _Ackpth_. What about water safety, Irissë, DAMN – ” 

The canoe rocked precariously as Aredhel reached down for the pump they kept on hand for bailing and used it as a high powered water pistol, squirting a long stream of water into Celegorm’s eyes. 

“Swallow  _this_  water safety, boyo.”

 

-

 

On the shore, two figures stood side by side, watching the tiny red dot in the middle of the lake. One had binoculars pressed to his eyes. 

Maedhros shook his head. “They’re going to swamp.” 

“They’re going to capsize,” murmured Fingon, peering through the binoculars. “Ah – yes, Irissë’s utilizing the pump. Just what I would have done.” 

“Are they wearing lifejackets, at least?” Maedhros crossed his arms and squinted, trying to make out the tiny figures in the canoe. 

“Yep. And they’ve got the safety whistles dad always made us wear, so if you hear any shrill blasts…” 

“Put my hands over my ears and hum loudly.” 

“Exactly.” Fingon lowered the binoculars and grinned at Maedhros. “Looks like the campsite’s ours for a while yet.” 

Maedhros turned and bee-lined for the tent. “I’ll get the rope. You get the honey.”


End file.
